


Because Everyone Needs To Play Sometimes

by WatermelonAntlers



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: And 38, Depression, Howard Stark Introspection, Howard Stark’s A+ Parenting, Howard is kinda neglectful, No Jarvis, Pre-Iron Man 1, Suicidal Howard Stark, The Bucky Bear name isn’t mine, The butler not JARVIS, Tony’s 4, Written for LA class, it’s from another fic but I can’t remember what it was called, otherwise I’d suggest it to you
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-04
Updated: 2018-12-04
Packaged: 2019-09-06 15:42:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,146
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16835599
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WatermelonAntlers/pseuds/WatermelonAntlers
Summary: Just a short story for LA class about the importance of being kind. Featuring the Starks.





	Because Everyone Needs To Play Sometimes

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to correct my Italian

“Often the press will say that 38 years is very impressive for a bachelor constantly working with dangerous explosives and chemicals,” Tony Stark said to the crowd in front of him. He didn’t want to be here, and talking to multiple reporters who had nothing better to do with their degrees wasn’t exactly on Tony’s favourite activities list, “and I will tell you that 38 years is nothing. Especially compared to my father, who as of last month turned 81. Despite raising me and surely adding a few gray hairs early.” The reporters all laughed. Fake, plastic laughs.  
“Mr. Stark!” One reporter interrupted, incorrectly gauging that Tony was done his speech, “Is retirement from your position at Stark Industries a possibility soon?”  
“Jesus Christ, I’m only 38!” Tony said, with a fake tone of humour. At least, attempted humour. “Regardless, retirement is not exactly on my mind as of now,” Tony said, waving his hand dismissively, “Anyways this is not the time for questions. Working at a 5 million dollar company built from the ground with no more than 5 cents, and especially with such a high position in the very same company, is a definitely special experience. Stark Industries is a company that I watched my father construct when I was a kid, and now to be partially and un-officially running Stark Industries with my father and Obadiah Stane I can officially say, I, and certainly my father have come a long way.”

To say Tony Stark’s father had come a long way was an understatement. Tony did not remember what monumental thing that he had done for his father, back when he was 4. Nobody other than Howard Stark himself remembered the day, everyone else believing it to be of no significance.  
On that day Howard Stark found himself in his office. Staring at a bank notice, Howard twirled the pen he was holding between his fingers. The room was cluttered with miscellaneous office things, and many of the drawers in Howard’s desk were left open as they were overflowing with papers and designs for Stark Industries. The window behind Howard’s desk was open, and a light breeze was coming through the room. Howard could hear the faint sounds of his wife Maria getting into a car with her things, and Tony yelling something in Italian to her. Italian was Maria’s mother tongue, and Howard could only understand bits and pieces of it. He was always too busy with Stark Industries to bother learning it.  
Maybe it was for the best that they took some time apart.

“Papá?” Tony asked, coming into Howard’s office some time later, “Dove sta andato la mamma?”  
Howard quickly slammed the only desk drawer not overflowing closed. He couldn’t let Tony see what was in it. “English, Tony,” Howard said.  
Tony knit his eyebrows and frowned, before slowly saying, “Where… is mama… go?”  
Howard sighed. He really needed to spend more time with Tony, instead of cooping himself up in his office all the time. “Where is mom going, Tony,” Howard corrected him, “and mom is going to visit her brother for a while. You remember Uncle Antonio?”  
Tony nodded, and Howard spun around in his chair again to face his desk and start working. Tony sat down at the foot of Howard’s chair as Howard picked up a pen and pulled out a paper from one of the open drawers.  
“What,” Tony said. He paused, thinking for a moment, “are you doing?” Howard sighed and forcefully put the pen down. Tony flinched, “Spiacente Papá,” he apologized.  
“I’m working, Tony,” Howard said, not turning to look at his child, “you know that when I’m working you can’t interrupt me.”  
Tony hung his head and crawled back up onto his feet, fiddling with the drawstrings of his Captain America hoodie, “Ma tu lavori sempre, Papá.”  
Howard ignored Tony, not knowing what Tony had said.

Howard didn’t notice Tony silently leaving the room. Two minutes passed before Tony came back into the room holding a stuffed bear and a piece of paper. Howard still ignored him. Fidgeting as he grabbed a pencil from off of the floor beside Howard’s desk. Tony gripped it in a fist and wrote something on the paper, sticking his tongue out a bit in concentration.  
“Tony,” Howard said, with an edge to his voice. Tony’s mere presence in the room was distracting him from his work, “Leave. I need to work.” Tony bit his lip and shifted nervously, and ignored Howard, instead opting to place the bear and the paper on Howard’s desk. Then he left. Howard rolled his eyes and tossed the bear to the side, leaving the paper where Tony put it. Whatever game Tony was playing, Howard wasn’t.

It wasn’t until later that night Howard actually read the paper Tony gave him. Howard didn’t know what time it was, but it was dark, and cold enough that he shut the window. Howard couldn’t hear Tony running around the house, so he assumed Tony must’ve put himself to bed.  
Tonight was the night. Howard would do it, what he had finished preparing for a month back, he would do tonight. He was ready for this. Tony would be happier, Maria would be happier… Howard definitely would be happier. Stark Industries wasn’t going anywhere anyways.  
Howard looked down at his desk, it was still littered with papers and all the drawers were still open aside from the one he slammed shut earlier in front of Tony. This had to be cleaned up, but Howard did not lift a finger. He had time to clean it all up properly, but he didn’t want to waste it.

Howard, now suddenly hesitant, slowly opened the almost empty drawer. Howard avoided looking at what was inside, but still wanting to do this more than ever. Then something caught Howard’s eye, Tony’s note. Scrambling to grab it, Howard almost knocked his chair over in the process.  
_Caus evereeone needs to playe soemtimes,_ Tony had wrote, his spelling and messiness accurately representing a 4 year old.  
“Oh Christ,” Howard choked, tearing up. He took a moment to re-read it, to process it before saying, “Oh Christ,” again and holding his face in his free hand. 

With blurry vision Howard looked over to where he threw the bear. It probably had a name, what was its name? It took Howard five minutes to think of it, to remember that this was Tony’s favourite bear, Bucky-Bear. One of the two nazi fighting bears Tony had. “Oh Christ,” he repeated again. Howard teetered across the room to pick the bear up, “Hi Bucky-Bear,” he said. He waited briefly for a response, before remembering he couldn’t get one. He could only get one from Tony. Howard sighed and shuffled back to his desk, Bucky-Bear in hand.

He closed the drawer with the gun in it.

**Author's Note:**

> Just in case you didn’t read the description and you’re gonna call me out on the slightly altered timeline, it’s just because this was originally for class and I had to alter the timeline for it to fit the theme better.


End file.
